fandomtownies | Entries tagged with $fandom island gazette

Paris wasn't doing radio this summer because she had found it much easier to terrify the deer than the squirrels.

The problem was that deer, easily startled, kept knocking into desks and filing cabinets in the newspaper office and making a huge mess, which was why, if you came in, you'd find Paris cleaning up a small mountain of investigative notes into the health inspection results for the Perk muttering to herself about passive aggressive deer who clearly knock things over just to annoy the only person currently in the office with thumbs.

whatdattonguedotho

Eddie had started this week off hopefully to get out and drum up some advertising for the paper. Mostly so people knew it existed.

But instead, he'd been lured into the records room. And it had been... a bit of a time suck as he caught up on some of the news of the island. Everything from vampires to gnome theft.

"And you guys sold no papers?" he asked, side-eying a deer as it lurked by the coffee pot.

It just made a disgruntled deer noise back at him, somehow producing a full coffee cup when he'd looked away for five seconds.

"Okay, we'll. Uh. Work on that."

Step one was going out to local businesses. Maybe he should make a list of them...

[very open business]

whatdattonguedotho

Eddie wanted to think that he was settling into his new job. Or, at least, no longer as concerned for his sanity.

Also, when he'd arrived this morning for his first real day on the job, there had been a banner up and cake to welcome him to the team. He wasn't going to question how deer managed to put it up or get and slice a cake for the office.

He was just gonna go with it.

Yep, that was for the best. Not gonna let any of it bother him today. Not even when he needed to wait for a deer from IT to show up and unlock his new work computer.

"Thanks," he told the bespectacled deer as it bounded off, away from him as fast as it could.

[the newspaper is open for business! Lol comms]

whatdattonguedotho

Eddie had been offered a job after the whole Life Foundation/alien bullshit/ruining his own life and career with poor impulse control thing had shook out.

Complete control over the stories he wanted to do, good pay, and not even a mention of the Daily Globe incident either.

Downside seemed to be that he was in a small as hell town. And the building looked like it hadn't been used in years. Which was a little concerning.

"Hello? Anyone here?" he called through the empty bullpen. Out of the corner of his eye, a blue-ish blur darted past. And he could feel Venom just coiling up for a fight like he just wanted Eddie to be unemployed or something. "Okay, if this is a hazing thing, I'm already over it.

Then, very slowly, a few--teal? Was that teal?--teal deer poked their heads up from a few of the desks to blink at him. One was even wearing some glasses.

"Oh. Cool. Delayed psychotic break," he said weakly, waving at one of them.

He turned on his heel, heading back to the empty lobby to go sit down for a little bit.

Eddie. Eddie. Can we eat them?

And also look up flights back to San Francisco while fucking ignoring that question.

[open, of course!]

all-the-news.livejournal.com

There was ANOTHER of those damned elf dolls on his desk. Carl reached for it and whistled for Buster. It only took a minute for the dog to come clattering down the hall to the editor's office. Just as he came through the door, Carl tossed the elf over him and out the door. The puppy gave an excited "broof" and jumped, spinning to try to catch the 'toy'. As soon as he had it in his teeth, Buster took off running with the doll. Probably to wherever he'd take off with the others that Carl had given him.

Carl ran a hand over his face, "this island..." At least he had regular lights tonight. And no 'caroling' gremlins screaming outside his door.

He shook his head and then ran his red pen over the latest edits to his article on the holiday insanity going on. He didn't notice the new elf doll appearing in the window sill behind him as he tried to get it into shape for the next issue of the Gazette*.

--

*A reminder! If anyone has any slowplay threads that they want to be 'published', or if you have threads that may have missed radio... Just drop a link at Box 13 and I will write them up for Saturday! I can make them regular or whacky cracky! Or heck, want to have your character write an article? Send it in! Carl will be happy to grouse about it and edit it because at least there would be SOMETHING in the paper.

[Oh! Up late, but open!]

all-the-news.livejournal.com

The Gazette didn't have much NEWS news in it, but Carl was determined to keep printing. And delivering. He managed to find Buster playing in what Carl was going to refer to as simply the 'rubber room'. It took a few uncomfortable moments but Carl finally managed to separate the pup from it's new favourite chew toy.

... VERY uncomfortable moments. "Of all the things for you to find... why did they even leave this stuff behind?!"

Carl ended up carrying the dog downstairs and, after a brief struggle, got him into the satchel full of newspapers. Which of course Buster thought was awesome and as soon as Carl let go, Buster headed to the door, tail wagging.

"See? You'll be a good news dog! All ready to go deliver these and maybe get a few new subscribers while we're out there?" Carl grabbed his keys and hat and opened the door.

And Buster took off.

"What the- Hey! Come back here!"

all-the-news.livejournal.com

The dog liked the sound of the press and nothing Carl could do or say stopped him from following along as Carl delivered papers, so a small pouch was fashioned that allowed the dog to hold the rolled papers as Carl delivered them.

'Buster' was now the official newsie for the Gazette.

Could his meals now be tax write-offs?

Buster was wearing his bag and running around the building, both because Carl couldn't actually catch him to take it off, and because Carl wasn't going to go looking into each of the upstairs rooms for him. Instead Carl was sitting at his desk, staring out the big window into the street, hoping for inspiration for a cover story. Was he really going to have to write a story on the visiting Parents last week? Really?

Maybe he should check the mail and see if anyone left him any hot tips...

[Open, if you don't mind SP, as I am currently enjoying post-surgery meds. That's also why there's no content today. Wheeeee, pills!]

all-the-news.livejournal.com

"Carl. Carl." There was a heavy weight on Carl's chest, suddenly. "Wake up, Carl. We have a small problem."

Frowning, Carl tried to remember having brought someone home the night before... and couldn't. He'd been up late printing the week's worth of Gazettes. Alone. He opened his eyes slowly.

Michail-4

"Carl? Good. Come on, the dog got into the papers."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

a few explanations and half a bottle of aspirin later
...

and after Carl had been convinced by the agonizing separation pain to climb back into the window and sit down to talk

"Okay, so you're me. And you've always been there. And I just couldn't see you. And you're a raccoon. That talks."

"Badger."

"Badger. Much better. A talking badger. I'm a badger." He blinked a moment, then his eyes narrowed as he caught the joke.

"You're not a badger, I am." The daemon facepalmed. "Look, can we just move on? That dog of yours-"

"He's not my dog!"

That got him a 'yeah right' smirk (and who knew a badger could smirk?!) "Fine, THE dog destroyed all the papers last night. What are we gonna do?"

Carl rubbed his face with both hands. "A badger and a news hound. Finally a full staff, and no paper to show for it."

[Gazette building is open!]

all-the-news.livejournal.com

Carl was just coming back from delivering the week's paper when he heard a shuffling and a small whimper. Looking over, he saw a small pup nuzzling and pawing desperately at one of the red and white ball things he'd seen (and written a rather stunning story about, if he didn't say so himself) all over town Thursday.

"Hey. What are you still doing here? I thought you all ran off Friday?" Thought and reported.

Look, it had been a slow news week, okay?

The pup perked up when Carl spoke and rolled the ball towards Carl's feet, then looked up at him to give a low, mournful whine as if asking for help.

Unfortunately Carl didn't speak dog; his experience mostly tended to be along the lines of !!RUN AWAY!!GONNA KILL ME!!RUN AWAY!!

Still, he picked up the ball and examined it. Nothing special; it seemed to be just an oddly coloured plastic ball. It almost looked, he thought briefly, like it could open at the middle and in turning it, he did find what seemed to be a button. Pressing it did nothing, however. There wasn't even a 'click' sound.

Carl finally shrugged. "Sorry dog, I don't really have time to play with you; go home, okay?" And he tossed the ball over his shoulder, causing the pup to stop whining and howl softly as it toddled off after the obviously favoured toy. Carl began to fumble in his pockets for his key but soon felt a soft thud against his shoe. Looking down, he spied the puppy awkwardly rolling the ball against his feet. Again. He ran a palm over his face.

The pup seemed well fed and friendly. And it obviously had a beloved toy... Carl opened the door, then picked up both the puppy and ball. "Okay, look. You can come in and maybe I'll kick the ball around a few times. Then we find out who you belong to and get you home. Understand?"

all-the-news.livejournal.com

A pile of this week's newspaper was in a basket on the front stoop and the door had a sign pinned on it:

Carl had decided to explore one of the closed-off rooms upstairs earlier in the day. The fact that they were furnished was nice? But some of the, uhm, 'furniture' had actually scared him.

And he'd worked Vegas!

all-the-news.livejournal.com

Carl was sitting on the stoop outside the Gazette building today. He'd heard that there were new students and teachers coming into town today and he wanted to make sure they had a chance to know about the town paper. And where to go if they had any tips on big stories.

Which seemed to be lacking in this town. Maybe he needed to make something happen?

Hmm. His reporter instincts hadn't failed him before, so he'd give it a while. Meanwhile, he had a Dear Aunt Fannie letter to read and respond to.

Dear Aunt Fannie,

I have been hearing cannons lately and no one else seems to notice. The other day I heard howling, too, but it was from far away. I'm very sensative to these things and I am sure that we are about to be invaded by ghost civil war soldiers; the howling is obviously my animal totem spirit trying to warn me.

This all makes sense when you remember that this is the state where the civil war first shed American blood and the first attempt to assasinate President Lincoln occurred. And I am sure you have noticed the release of that movie? About the Civil War? Every copy of my cable guide that talks about that movie has dog teeth marks in it, and I only have cats. This is all coming together as a prophecy and I am sure I am being used as a warning.

I think if you printed my letter, other people would become enlightened and we may be able to prevent another attempt by the Southern rebels to destroy this nation.

If needed, you may print my contact information.

Sincerely and with love,

~ Mauve Sunrise Blooming-Bright ~

Finished the letter, Carl rubbed his face in disbelief... despair... whatever. "This town is almost as weird as San Francisco."

[Open! For play as well as for dropping any links or Aunt Fannie letters.]

all-the-news.livejournal.com

Carl set the last stack of papers on his desk. He'd managed to ~~con~~ convince some local kids to carry some to various businesses already, so this stack was in case anyone came in. Sure they were late, but there was some content today!

Sort of. He took a seat and scanned his personal copy...

To the woman with the hat - Sorry I ate your cat.
-- --

Ms Ida and everyone - I hope the office came back unburned, and thank you for all you do for the school. IT IS TOTALLY EXHAUSTING! - M. Akatsutsumi
-- --

WE ARE NOT REALLY MARRIED! QUIT STALKING ME! singed, you know who.
-- --

If you were in any way harmed by an archer during the events of last week, please see Clint Barton at the Atlas Gym so apologies and offers in exchange for forgiveness can be made.

(Also, if you misplaced a bow, I have it and would like to make sure it gets back to you. Please come see me!)
-- --

Let's not complicate our relationship by trying to communicate with each other ever again. I know it didn't happen, but it did.
-- --

Suddenly Carl's eyes snapped open. "I mispelled a word?!"

[ooc: Sorry it's so late! RL happened, despite all I tried.]

all-the-news.livejournal.com

Finally having peeled himself away from hugging his full sized automated printing press, boxes of fresh clean INEDIBLE TREE PULP paper, and ink that didn't taste or smell like beets, Carl headed to the Editor's office and his tape recorder.

He needed to do some research into what all had happened, but first he wanted to get what he remembered recorded. He pressed the record button, then leaned his chin on his palm, trying to figure out where to begin...

"The past. It's something we hold as firm and unchanging. As the ancient Greek poet and playwright Agathon is recorded to have once said, 'Even God cannot change the past.'

"Unfortunately, as I've learned over the last few days, this is not true..."

Carl went quiet after that, musing over what he could remember and what he was about to say next. Finally he reached into his desk and grabbed a notebook and marker.

The front of the Gazette building now had the following sign taped up, in BIG letters:

SPECIAL MIDWEEK EDITION
OF THE FANDOM ISLAND GAZETTE

OPEN / ANONYMOUS LETTERS
ACCEPTED FOR PRINT

FREE AD SPACE AVAILABLE

SUBMISSIONS ACCEPTED THIS WEEK ONLY

[OOC: if you're looking to talk to Carl, I'm SP due to works stuffs until 7EST. Any ads or IC-anon letters you can leave in the post box and they will be published in a Gazette post Wednesday!]

all-the-news.livejournal.com

Carl stood at his desk, hand on his hip as frowned down at his pile of Gazettes. The front page consisted of a photo of the building with the new 'Fandom Island Gazette' sign, and an editorial introducing the paper. That had not been his first choice for a full colour splash front page story, but apparently editors weren't as powerful as he'd always believed.

In a sort of personal retaliation, the paper also had few of the stories from his first run added back in, as well as a small tidbit about the Community Center class he'd attended earlier in the week.

As close to Real News as he'd had a chance to get, what with being the only staff.

Scattered between the articles were the few ~~handwavy NPC~~ ads he'd scrounged up and some pictures from around town. In his mind, space filler. Per 'The Purse', as Carl was now calling his backer, it was "Community Interest, Carl. Romance. People will buy more of a product if it's something they care about."

What that meant, Carl had no idea; people didn't buy multiple copies of a paper!

He opened the top issue of the Gazette and ran a critical eye over it. In the middle of a random column, was the worst of the whole thing, though. A brief notice that he hoped like hell no one read:

The Fandom Island Gazette is proud to announce the newest addition to our staff, Aunt Fanny, as our new Advice columnist. Not only a fellow Fandom resident, Aunt Fanny has years of experience and would love to share some of it with you. Please send your letters for Aunt Fanny care of the Gazette Office, 4 Apocalypse Ave.

Carl ran a hand over his face and sighed. He hated answering advice column letters. Maybe he actually could hire someone?

[I am AFK until about 10pm EST, so pings will be slow! OCD ~~coming~~ up!]

all-the-news.livejournal.com

"Of course it's a newspaper!" Carl pulled a copy of the first issue of the Fandom Island Gazette off the stack sitting on his desk and shook it at the phone, as if the man on the other end could see it. Which actually he could, since Carl had sent him a copy. What with him being the one who paid for the whole venture, Carl figured he should have the first one off the press. "What did you think it was?"

...

"Science fiction magazine? Of course not!" Could Carl sound any more offended? "Each of these articles is real news! Thoroughly investigated and accurately reported by..."

...

"I promise you they are real and fully explainable! I was just saving that for the follow-up. Investigative journalism 101, you get the reader interested." Was he going to buy that?

...

"An advice column?!" Apparently not, And apparently Carl could sound more offended. He dropped the paper to his desk. "No. I mean, how is that even possible? They don't have wire service out here. They barely have electricity! Puzzles... ADS? This is a NEWSpaper!"

He should never have sent that copy.

Carl's head fell to his hand. He was feeling sympathy, suddenly, for all the editors and publishers he'd accused of brown-nosing over the years. Keeping the purse-holder happy was going to be the death of him, especially when said purse-holder wanted to keep refilling that purse. Something Carl wasn't as interested in, as a journalist.

But as an Editor... Carl let the voice on the phone continue on with its list of demands and simply stared at the piles of already printed Gazettes full of NEWS that he was going to have to scrap. When Carl could finally hang up, he reached into his desk for the Fandom Island phone book and, taking a deep breath, began cold calling any still-open businesses to ask if they would be interested in ad space.

[FINALLY got this up! If you want to have Carl call your company, he did! It can be handwavy or you can ping in and play! Feel free to say no or to say yes or to break his brain by requesting a full page ad of a polar bear eating ice cream in a blizzard. Please stand by for some OCD?]

all-the-news.livejournal.com

"Be careful! Do you realize how much that costs?"

The movers were not listening, still, and simply backed up slightly and adjusted until the printing press fit through the door. Once in, they easily moved through the former art gallery and to the area Carl had designated as the Print Room. There were already other supplies in the room, so Carl rushed in and began yelling and ordering people about, trying to get the room exactly the way he thought it should be.

"Seriously! The paper should be over there! How can you think otherwise? It's common sense to keep it away from the ink! No no no! That's blocking the door to the dark room! Were you born this incompetent? Watch the acid wash!"

Carl was actually in a good mood, despite the yelling. He'd finally found an old colleague willing to put up the money for a start up small town newspaper and here he was, Carl Kolchak, editor and sole journalist! He could finally print the news that the people needed to hear and no one was going to stop him or cut his story or edit it down to fluff and nonsense.

Like they had done to his piece on the bison on the island. Sure he'd been paid for it, but the copy included with his money had been changed from an investigative report on the mysterious versions that had evolved on the island, to just the first two paragraphs and the conclusion. Which made it into a happy-go-lucky article about the history of the American icon.

But now. His own paper! And apparently there was an apartment upstairs, which meant his personal rent was free! He'd explore upstairs later, meanwhile... "Hey! No! I told you, there has to be three sinks in there! THREE! What are you thinking? Have you never seen a dark room?"

It was going to take a while to get the place open and actually running. But when it was, Carl already had his first story planned: TIME TRAVEL IS REAL! I CAME FROM 1974!

Yeah, someone had finally accepted that the year was 2012.

[OOC: Carl is running about and yelling, but he is totally free to talk to! Feel free to stop in!]

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Entries tagged with $fandom island gazette

Fandom Island Gazette, Friday, May 10, 2019

Fandom Island Gazette, Friday

Fandom Island Gazette, Monday

Fandom Island Gazette, Tuesday Afternoon

Fandom Island Gazette Building, Sunday evening

Fandom Island Gazette Building, Saturday

Fandom Island Gazette, Saturday

Fandom Island Gazette Building, Saturday

Fandom Island Gazette, Saturday

Fandom Island Gazette, Saturday

Fandom Island Gazette, Saturday

Fandom Island Gazette, Special Wednesday Edition

Office of the Fandom Island Gazette, Monday

Fandom Island Gazette, Saturday

Thursday early evening, Editor's office, Fandom Island Gazette building

Saturday, 4 apocalypse Avenue, formerly the Fourth Dimension Fine Arts and Antiques

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